Via Hasselt, Belgium. These fleeting weeks between Halloween and Christmas, when the polyester cobwebs on the front porch are swapped out for tinsel garland, have no time to stake out their own identity. They’re forever lost in transit from one holiday to the next. But during these ephemeral days between “The Monster Mash” and “Silver Bells,” an album like Wouter Dewit’s Still (2017) finds its place, mirroring the shift in seasons —and in ourselves—with bittersweet introspection.